Pinned
by pidgeypidglet
Summary: She would have been fourteen today. Fourteen. A thriving, blossoming, beautiful young woman. She won't be though and it's all my fault. I want to run and I want to scream, to cry and to just let this sadness swallow me up whole, without anything left but...I can't. I can't. He won't let me.


_Breathing._

_In, Out,_

_Soft and Steady._

_Breathing._

The sure sign you're alive. Proof that your heart's still pumping-blood's still coursing through your veins. Only I don't feel very alive. Breathing or not. I don't feel alive at all. Cause _this_, whatever this is, isn't living.

It was silly...no not silly, _stupid, _to think things would've gone back to normal, whatever that was. I don't think normal is something I've ever experienced. It just wasn't meant for me. From my father's death, my chances of normality went into a downward spiral. To be honest, a lot of things seem to be going in a downward spiral.

I'm not even sure what I've spent my days doing. Everything seems to just . . . pass along. My days whizz on in a blur, a whirlwind of time moving forward and barely pulling me along. Morning comes and goes and before I know it, it's dark out. Nights pass without a wink of sleep and then the process starts itself all over again. When I do sleep it's in spurts. My body simply shuts down, mind so worn from its abuse that it's not strong enough to conjure up nightmares or _any_ thoughts for that matter. Honestly, I prefer things that way. I don't want to think. There's too much to think about anyway. My old life, how things could've been, resurfacing memories, Gale, my mother, Peeta, …Prim.

'_Enough.'_

My jaw tightened, a small sheen of sweat breaking out across my forehead.

'_Calm down. Calm down. Breathe.'_

I swiped my hand across my brows before letting it fall limply to my side. I couldn't let my thoughts wander, not now, not today.

I rose to my feet, the bed groaning in release. Normally if anywhere in this house brought me a small ounce of peace of mind it was my room. Probably because it was so bland seeing as I never really took to decorating it, the plainer it was the less chance there was of stumbling upon something that brought back a painful memory or an all too real flashback, but today it seemed everything would trigger a mental break down.

I took a quick glance around the room. It looked as it always did. I never saw the point of making it seem homey. This wasn't my home. Not my real one at least. There were no pictures, no colorful decorations, no mess, just emptiness.

Despite this my throat closed up, heart hammering wildly. I pressed my eyes shut, focusing on getting my breathing under control. The silence and distant ringing in my ears causing my nerves to intensify and without control my hand flew out to the bed post and clutched firmly to steady myself. It isn't for few minutes before my eyes slowly open and I realize my hand has been clutching the bed far too hard for far too long. My knuckles are already white.

I knew this was coming. Snow began to fall less and less, the days subtly grew warmer, flower buds were starting to bloom, and the day inched closer and closer.

And now it was here.

_The 26__th__._

_The 26__th__ of May._

Prim's birthday.

I could feel the knot closing tighter against my throat. Tighter and tighter, the sting of tears blurring my vision.

'_Control yourself, Katniss.'_

I swallowed painfully, wincing as I shoved the knot down and pushed the tears back. It was times like these that made me wish I could remember anything from Dr. Aurelius's ramblings on relaxation tips. I would carry on today like every other day, vacant and unaware. This would pass. I just had to get through today.

'_All twenty-four hours of today.'_

I bit my tongue. I couldn't,_ I wouldn't_, think like that. If I had any chance of making it through today with the little stability I had left then I'd need to be strong for me, for _her._

I lifted my chin, running a hand over the braid hanging limply over my shoulder. I needed to get out of here, out of this house. There were memories lurking around every corner and I was on pins and needles waiting for an ambush.

In one motion I was out of the room and bounding down the hallway towards the stairs. I tried to pass it without so much as a glance, determined to keep my gaze locked firmly on the perfectly polished wooden floors, but without the thought even crossing my mind, my head tilted up until I caught a perfect view of her door. _Prim's room._

It was left untouched and exactly how she left it and if I was really set to driving myself off the edge and peeked into her room I was certain it would look exactly how I remembered it.

Unlike myself, Prim made sure everything she touched was left branded. If it was hers then it became _hers_. It was given as much personality as she had. It was signature. It was Prim. The room would forever have those rosy pink walls with innate white designs, her bed always put together and completed with decorative pillows, a large window with sheer white curtains, the view a lovely image of the back of Haymitch's house, and then there were the shelves filled with medical books handed down to her by my mother. I could still see the look of excitement and pride that filled her face when my mother handed them to her, like she was carrying on a legacy.

I don't know when the tears started or how long I had been making these awful choking noises, but once I took notice of it I couldn't bring myself to stop. The tears continued to fall free and I made a weak attempt to mask the sounds by placing a shaky hand over my lips. The gesture did next to nothing and the breathy cries seemed to break through my fingers.

I turned hastily and placed a balancing hand upon the wall. I knew this feeling well, the uncontrollable shaking, the buckled knees, the gasping for breath.

Before my brain could process what I was doing, I ran. Sprinting from the upstairs hallway, I was out of the door and thrust into the cool shade of midnight.

I paid no mind to my clothing, or rather lack of; a loose night shirt barely reaching my thighs and offering little to no protection against the windy night's chill or to the growing reality that I was staggering over to my unsuspecting neighbor's home.

My mind a pitless blur, I pounded ruthlessly against the defenseless wood.

Something small within my mind told me I shouldn't be here, that I was intruding and by coming I was opening wounds that just hadn't healed yet, but the larger, more dominate part of my head took over, fueling my raving and ranting.

"Peeta!" My strangled voice sounded foreign to my own ears, worn from lack of use.

"Peeta!" That voice screeched again. The longer he took the harder I pounded.

I nearly stumbled forward then the door creaked open, concerned eyes meeting my bloodshot ones.

"Katniss? What happened?" I collapsed forward, immediately being scooped into his warm embrace before being lifted off my feet. He carried me like I had seen him do with sacks of flower, back in the days before the games when his body was still limber and untouched by the Capital's poison. I was weightless, defenseless, my feet dangling and arms barely wrapped around him.

He placed me on the plump cushions of his couch before running off upstairs.

'_He left me all alone. He doesn't know what to do with me.' _This thought hurt unexpectedly bad, so I cried harder. I cried and cried still even after seeing the golden waves bound back down the stairs, with a large blanket in hand.

He draped the wool over me, lifting me up effortlessly once more to tuck the blanket beneath, before settling next to me on the couch.

For awhile we sat in silence, the sound only of my body catching up with the breath it had lost. We sat side by side, a boy with bread and a mocking jay with broken wings, and once again he was my comfort.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, unwilling to break the calm silence in the room. "I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have-"

His warm arms wrapped around me and he pulled me, wordlessly, into his chest.

I could hear his heart thumping wildly against my ear and I lay stiff, unsure of whether to distance myself or curl into the warmth and contact I hadn't had, and suddenly needed.

It was closeness and comfort my body suddenly craved, so I gave in and stayed put, and allowed myself the smallest bit of comfort I could get tonight.

"You don't need to be sorry, Katniss." He finally spoke. His voice was clear and thick in the dark room and I found that hearing brought another wave of comfort to wash over me.

I may regret it in the morning and it may make tensions rise, but for right now this is what I needed. I needed to be here and, for the first time in a long time, I remembered just how much I needed Peeta Mellark.

The sun was bright and warm. So bright and so warm, and I could feel it shining down on my face. In the forest when I was a little girl, my father and I would bathe in our lake. Deep behind the confines of trees and nestled into the boughs of branches, it lay like a crystal gem against the dull brown earth. A pool of bright blue mirrored by the sky above all set afire by the sun.

I peeked an eye open, squinting at the sudden light pouring onto my face.

Where was I?

Once glance around and I was certain I wasn't in my house. Once glance downwards and I was certain whose house I was.

A plate of cheese buns lay ready and waiting.

Fear and the sudden urge to run filled my veins. Why did I come here last night? What the hell was I thinking? The amount of explaining I would have to do, the unfinished business that had just resurfaced, all because of a sudden break down. It wasn't like it was the first time and I was certain it wouldn't be the last, so why? Without another thought, I sprang to my feet and made for the door, leaving the plate of cheese buns untouched.

_-It's short and rough as of now, but if received relatively well, I plan on continuing with lengthier chapters, heartier chapters._


End file.
